


What Comes Next

by posingasme



Series: Too Much and Not Enough [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Pierced Castiel, Piercings, Punk Castiel, Tattooed Castiel, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Inked Touches" explored Sam's background and psychology far more than Castiel's. "Inked Touches" pushed Sam out of his comfort zone. Time to do the same for Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Comes Next

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosworms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosworms/gifts).



Castiel was not a morning person. For that matter, he was not truly a night person either. Castiel was a cat person, and he liked his bed.

Unfortunately, he had fallen in love with an enormous puppy.

“Come on! I want to get going!”

The dark head had disappeared under a pillow. His bare arms and back were exposed now that Sam was tugging the sheets off of him, but his hands gripped tightly to his pillow, and refused to budge. His nose was smashed into the mattress, but he didn’t care about that. He was beginning to care about being cold, though he did not intend to give Sam the satisfaction of sitting up to say so. He remained on his stomach, arms raised to protect his pillow, while Sam yanked the rest of his warmth from his bare body.

That’s where it stopped.

Castiel smirked into the blue fitted sheet.

“You’re still naked.”

The shoulders shrugged, mostly because he knew Sam loved to watch his tattooed back muscles move.

Through the pillow, he could hear Sam breathe a bit shallowly. “That’s not fair, man.”

“I’m asleep,” his muffled voice called. “I’m allowed to be naked. What’s not fair is you waking me up before eleven o’clock.”

He knew his puppy was rolling his eyes. He also knew those eyes’ gaze was not moving from his skin. Sam was easy and predictable. “Cas?” the puppy whined.

“I’m asleep!” he reminded him. “You can stare at my ass or you can cover me back up, but I’m not moving!”

There was a third option, and he knew Sam would choose it. He braced himself. With only a moment of hesitation, the big dumb dog leapt onto the bed, on top of him.

Castiel howled as huge, cold hands grabbed him around the waist and yanked. Sam pulled Castiel himself with the same ease as he had eliminated the blankets from the equation. “Get off me, you freaking St. Bernard!”

“Cas! Come on!”

The pillow was thrown aside, and Castiel’s blue eyes looked up at Sam’s wide open puppy face with loving annoyance. “God, you’re so needy!”

Sam smiled smugly. “You love me. You said so. You also said you’d be up before sunset.”

“So? I’m a liar. What do you want?”

With one swift motion, Sam was on top of him. Suddenly, he was on his back, gazing up at the huge, handsome man, and he could not help but smile. “Cas,” he said again, this time slowly with a sensual tone, “don’t ask me what I want unless you’re ready to give it to me.”

Castiel’s nostrils flared, and he pressed his hips upward into Sam’s body above him. He thrilled with the way Sam’s eyes narrowed, and his breath caught in his throat at the friction. “I know what you want,” he hissed. “But you’ve already had it four times this weekend, and I need some sleep.”

The pout was gorgeous. “You always want to sleep.”

“We can’t all be insatiable great danes. Now, what did I promise you we’d do today?”

“It’s Spring Break. You said we’d go to the beach.”

Castiel sighed. He needed to stop talking right before and right after sex with Sam. He would tell the man anything at those moments. Just before, he was so caught up in the feel of him that he would promise him the stars and the moon, and just after, he was so desperately in love with him that he would give in to any request, anything to make his Sam happy, anything to express how much he adored him. It always came back to bite him in the ass the next morning when he wanted to be asleep.

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

The man stretched like a feline underneath Sam’s body, making his lover’s eyes flutter closed for a moment.

“Stop doing that. I’m not going to be kept in bed all day, just because you’re clever enough to sleep naked.”

He shrugged with a smile. “Worth a shot. It’s worked a few times.”

“It isn’t my fault you’re so beautiful,” Sam breathed. He lowered those lovely lips to Castiel’s chest, and kissed his way down to his stomach. Then he pushed himself up again. “But I’m not falling for it again. I want to go to the beach, and I want to go before Gabe wakes up and wants to go with us.”

He could not argue with that. “Fine. Move.” He shoved Sam to the side, and snickered to himself when the man tumbled off the bed altogether. “Come on, Grace. If I’m taking you to the beach, you’re buying me breakfast.”

“Lunch. It’s almost eleven.”

“Whatever. I want eggs.”

Sam glanced at him. “Thought you were off meat.”

Castiel slid out of the bed, and padded into the bathroom to turn on the shower. “Eggs aren’t meat.”

“They’re not?”

“Do they have eyes?”

His lover hesitated. “I-I guess not. But I thought-”

“Nothing with eyes. That’s my moral parameter. Except potatoes. I don’t like potatoes anyway. So, yeah. Anything with eyes is out. Eggs don’t count. I want eggs.” He glanced at himself in the mirror, looking at the way his newest tattoo had healed nicely on his hip. Then he stepped into the shower. “You coming in?”

“Man, I’ve been showered for two hours now, and I’m not allowed to touch you, so what’s the point in getting all soaked again?”

Castiel shrugged into the hot stream. “Suit yourself.” The only thing he enjoyed more than his warm bed was a hot shower. He let the water wash over him, felt every nerve waking up. He sighed happily. “What have you been doing for two hours?” he called. “Studying, I hope.”

“It’s Spring Break!” the man called back.

“But you were studying, weren’t you?” He smiled to himself. Easy and predictable, that was Sam Winchester.

“Maybe I was looking at porn!”

He chuckled to himself, grasping blindly at his soap. “Don’t use the p-word! It’s like a summoning for Gabe!”

“Right.” The voice’s volume and tone normalized as Sam stepped into the bathroom. He sat on the floor next to the shower, and Castiel could hear him drop his head back onto the wall with a thud. “Yeah, I was studying.”

“I love you.”

There was a pause. “Okay. I love you too. Why?”

He gave another happy sigh, and ran his hands over his body quickly. “Because I love you.”

“Okay. My brother called earlier.”

“Dean’s awake? I thought you said he was out all night.”

“He was. Guy doesn’t sleep. Opposite of you. You need sixteen hours to not be a bitch; he only needs like four. By the time I left Pamela’s, Dean was just getting started, but I bet he was the first one up and cleaning this morning. Neat freak like you.”

Castiel smiled to himself and dropped shampoo into his palm. “I’m no neat freak.”

“Not like Dean is. But you clean constantly. Just because you can’t keep your clothes ironed doesn’t mean you aren’t a neat freak. Anyway, maybe we could grab some lunch with him. Would that be okay?”

Castiel paused in rinsing out his hair. He took a breath, then finished scratching his mane clean, and wiped his face free of water droplets. He opened his mouth to catch water, then spat it out. He glanced down at the ink on his hands for several long beats.

“Cas? You still in there?”

He cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice came out huskier than he had meant for it to. “You want me to meet Dean?”

There was a hesitation on the other side of the curtain. Then his lover spoke again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want. Or we can just go ourselves. I just know Dean’s off today from both jobs, and he had asked if I wanted to get together...I think he’d like to meet you. If that’s okay.”

He licked his lips carefully. “Of course, Sam,” he said in his low, gravelly voice. “Whatever you want.” He closed his eyes momentarily, then turned off the water. As he reached out for the towel, he found that his heart was beating faster than it should. The water must have been too hot, he considered. He dragged the towel through his hair, then wrapped it around his waist. “Move over,” he ordered quietly, pulling aside the curtain.

Sam lifted himself from the floor. His eyes were scanning Castiel’s face, but the blue eyes did not rise to meet his. “Cas, is something...did I say something wrong?”

At last, Castiel lifted his gaze, and smiled. “Of course not. Should I wear anything...in particular?”

The large man stared at him. “For the beach? Yeah. Clothes. Maybe a swimsuit, in case I manage to get your cat ass near the water. Tee shirt. Whatever.”

“I meant...” He shook his head. “That’s fine. Look, can you go make coffee? Please?”

Sam nodded slowly. “Sure, man. You sure I didn’t...”

He smiled, and reached up to kiss his lips softly. “I’m sure you are perfect. Go. Make coffee so I’m not a bitch all day.”

_Especially in front of your brother._

He sighed as he watched Sam hurry from the room. He dried off with the towel, then abandoned it on the bare bed to search for clothes. Sam was right that he was obsessively clean, but neat was not a word that could accurately describe anything about Castiel Novak’s life. He regretted it only occasionally, like today, when he wished he had a better idea of where his best casual clothes were. He reached into a basket which held his rumpled clean laundry that never made it into a drawer, and scattered pieces onto the bed until he found a plain, soft blue tee and the nicest jeans he owned. He dug through his dresser to locate his only swim trunks, and threw them into his messenger bag to change into later. He was not meeting Sam’s brother in swim shorts.

Sam’s brother.

He was like a legend by now. The guy who had provided a home for his kid brother when their father could not or would not. The guy who had taken custody of Sam the moment he turned eighteen, when Sam was not even yet fourteen, and had told him to choose a city anywhere in the country for them to live. The guy who had picked up two jobs with overtime at both in order to feed and clothe the kid who looked up to him long after he grew taller. The guy Sam adored more than anything in the world.

 _Dean_.

Just the word was sacred coming out of Sam’s mouth. Even when he was rolling his eyes and telling Castiel about the stupid things his brother said and did, the way he flirted with everything that breathed when he was drunk, the way he doted on the classic Impala he had fixed up and adopted like a rescue dog from that junkyard, the way he didn’t understand a word of what Sam was studying at school. Even when he talked about his brother with that shake of his head, he said his name like it was the name of a hero.

He should be honored to meet the guy. He knew that. But instead he already disliked Dean, for making his chest tighten with anxiety. There was little chance that he would be able to eat in front of him, not with his stomach tying knots inside. If only Sam didn’t worship him, maybe he wouldn’t care so much. Castiel had never been much for meeting family. He had avoided it whenever possible. But he had never been in love like this, with someone so worth the anxiety. For Sam, he would try.

He licked his pink lips and glanced once more in the mirror, eyeing his left tat sleeve peeking out from under the blue cotton. For the first time since he had felt his first needle, he wanted to cover the ink completely. With a severe frown, he grabbed a black hoodie from his pile and threw it over his head. The ink, except for that on his fingers, was gone from sight. He brushed his messy hair over his ears to cover the multiple piercings along the rim. After a moment of staring into the mirror, he reached up and removed the scaffold piercing along the top of his left ear, and the tiny hoop at the side of his bottom lip, along with the one in his eyebrow. He flinched from his reflection as the blue stare accused him.

“Screw you,” he whispered at the mirror. “Twenty-two years of being myself, and not caring about anyone else’s opinion. I can spend an hour pretending to be someone I’m not. Sam’s willing to show me to his brother as is. The least I can do is hide what ‘as is’ actually is.” He ran his tongue over the piece of flesh missing its metal, and glared at the mirror. “Screw you,” he said again, and whirled on his heel to flee the room, grabbing his bag on his way out.

“Coffee’s almost done. I’ll put it in a cup for you. Want me to drive till you wake up?”

“No,” Castiel said sharply. “No, I’ll drive. Last time you drove, I spent a week trying to readjust the seat and mirrors.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as he turned from the coffee machine. “Cas?” he muttered.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Told you I needed sleep. I don’t mean to be bitchy.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Okay. Aren’t you going to be too hot in that hoodie?”

His tongue refused to leave his lip alone. “No. I mean, yeah, maybe. Don’t worry about it. I get cold in restaurants.”

Finally, Sam smiled, and took two strides to cross the room toward him. He stopped before administering the kiss he had brought with him. Castiel’s face flushed red under the scrutiny. “Cas, what...why did you take off your rings?”

He shrugged moodily. “I don’t know. We’re going swimming.”

His lover nodded again. “Okay.” He put his hand on the warm cheek. “Okay. As long as it isn’t because you’re sick of me kissing it.”

Castiel smiled almost shyly. What was wrong with him today? “Yeah, no. Not at all. No, I take them out sometimes. I probably didn’t have them on when we first met, did I?”

“No. But it’s rare to see you without them now.”

He swallowed with difficulty. “Do you...do you like it better without?”

Sam’s smile seemed to have a touch of confusion in it. “Cas, I like your face. Doesn’t really matter to me what’s on it or not on it. I like it with the rings, and I like it without them. So change it up however you want. Long as you stay beautiful, I’ll stay happy.”

If there were just one sin in Castiel’s world, it would be pride. He felt a goofy smile spreading across his face, even as it warmed even further. “Yeah, okay. Well, there’s no chance of me not being beautiful, so...”

Sam swatted at his shoulder, then reached down and kissed him gently. “Whatever. You drool in your sleep, Angel,” he laughed. “Don’t get too cocky.”

 _Angel_. Castiel loved this man so completely. He loved that he called him Angel. He loved that he called him anything. “I’ve had sex with Sam Winchester four times this weekend, and I’ve slept with him twice. Don’t tell me not to get cocky. It’s way too late for that.”

The puppy laughed, and shoved him gently toward the coffee. “Come on. Let’s get going. I texted Dean; he’s going to meet us at Black Eye’s in a half hour.”

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat, but he nodded. “Sounds like fun,” he coughed.

***

Pamela was rolling her eyes, but she did that so often that Dean tended to ignore it. This time, though he turned to glare at her defiantly. "What?" he demanded.

She burst into laughter. In spite of the blush he knew was creeping across his freckles, he smiled at the way her dark eyes sparkled.  He would never get over the way she looked at him like he was edible and ridiculous all at once. She was the only woman he had ever met who sort of scared the crap out of him. He was certain it was why he was so in love with her.

"Dean, is this Sam's boyfriend or yours?"

"The hell does that mean?"

"I don't remember you ever putting this much thought into what you wore to lunch with me."

He tossed her a green glower, then looked back into his closet. "Doesn't matter what I wear for you. You're just going to take it off me anyway. Besides, I look better than any of your exes."

"I don't see Dean tattooed on my ass."

"Only because you learned your lesson with the last stray you took in." He tugged at his clothes uncomfortably, then gestured to his choice of dark blue jeans and a gray tee under a black suit jacket, the only one he owned. "This okay?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Aside from being overdressed for the Black Eye Cafe? Yeah. You look good." She smiled. "Sure you don't want me to come?"

"You study for that exam. You promised me I'd be dating a nurse. All respectable, remember?"

She lay back on the bed and groaned. "It's easier to study when you don't throw a party at my place then drag me to yours before I've gotten any real sleep."

"You'll sleep when you're dead, Pamela. Just like me. And if you want to keep hustling marks at bars for the rest of your life, I support that. But you don't. So get your ass up and study."

Pamela tried not to smile at him. "Not an ounce of sympathy, huh?"

"Nope. You're the smartest woman I've ever met. And you're going to look amazing in scrubs."

She sighed. "It's true." She stood, in all her breathtaking, naked glory, and smacked him on the backside. "And you look amazing in everything."

Dean cleared his throat as she headed for her robe. "Besides," he murmured as he stared down at his mother's ring on his dresser, "once you pass this exam, I'm going to take you out to dinner to celebrate, and I'm going to ask you to marry me. So yeah."

Pamela stopped with one arm in her robe. She turned very slowly toward him again. "What?"

His heart was pounding out of control. "One rent is better than two, right?"

She pulled the robe all the way on, and tied it with a snap of her wrists. Her long legs remained bare, and if he could bring himself to look at her, he would be appreciating them. But he couldn't.

"Okay, Winchester," she said finally. "Just don't try to domesticate me." With that, she left the room, and he was able to breathe again.

***

Sam had gotten Castiel to switch out Sex Pistols for The Offspring, and he considered it a small victory. He lay his head back and stared out the window happily as the band complained about their lack of self-esteem. It had been a fantastic weekend. He and Castiel had holed up at the older man’s apartment the entire two days, with just a few hours spared for the spontaneous gathering at Pamela’s across town. Castiel had opted to stay curled in bed, claiming to need rest and rehydration before Sam was the death of him. Sam teased him about getting old, and Castiel had not risen to the bait. “Yes,” he had grumbled. “Very old. Some of us had lives before college, remember.” Then he had turned onto his belly and promptly passed out.

As he watched the scenes pass by his window, it occurred to Sam that he still did not know much about Castiel’s life before college. “You said something last night.”

“Sam, I said I’d drive us to the beach. Quit pestering.”

“No,” he laughed, “I mean something else.”

“Is this multiple choice?”

He slugged the man in the arm. “God, you’re so grouchy.”

“You woke me up.”

“It was for your own good. You need sunlight.”

“What did I say? And was it right before or right after sex?”

Sam’s mouth opened, then closed again. Finally, he responded, “What does that have to do with it?”

Castiel smiled softly. “Nothing. So?”

“What did you do before college?”

“I travelled. You know that.”

“I know. But where? And for what?”

The man took a deep breath and turned the music down slightly. “Why?”

The larger man rolled his eyes and tried to stretch his legs. “I don’t know. This weird thing about wanting to get to know you better.”

The dark head nodded slowly. “Sorry. Yeah, I travelled. Went to Eastern Europe for a while with some buddies right out of high school. Did some volunteer work in Haiti. Spent a few months in Australia, and almost a year in Nepal. Took an extra three months in Vancouver for no reason whatsoever, except that it’s got awesome Aboriginal communities.”

“Wow. How’d you pay for all that?”

“Credit card fraud, mostly.”

Sam’s eyes went wide.

Castiel laughed then, and patted his lover’s leg. “Just kidding, Sam. I stayed at hostels and got jobs everywhere I went. I taught English in Ukraine, swung a hammer in Nepal, pretty much whatever would keep food in my pack. I didn’t need much. Still don’t. When I finally had enough of wandering, I came home and applied to schools.”

“What about your family?”

“You know I was in the system since I can remember.”

Sam nodded. It was rare for Castiel to speak openly about himself. He never had anything to hide, and he had made it clear that anything Sam needed to know, he would tell him. But that was the thing; Sam always had to ask. “Yeah. But didn’t you have anybody who...”

The blue eyes stared hard at the road. “You grew up without your mom. And your dad after Dean turned eighteen. It isn’t that different.”

“Yeah, but I had Dean. And I grew up with my dad, and he came around a few times a year after I was in high school. Not father of the year or anything, but he cared about me. He was just bad at parenting, that’s all.”

“Right. Well, I had some folks who tried sometimes. But nobody I needed to send a postcard to.” He cleared his throat. “So yeah, Dean. Tell me more about Dean.”

Sam felt his smile returning. “He’s great, man. You’re going to love him. I mean, he’s an idiot, and a jackass, and he’ll probably show up covered in grease or something, but he’s a good guy. And let him pay, okay? Seriously, don’t even try to grab the check. He’ll stare you down like you’re challenging his masculinity or something.”

He watched as the man drew in a long breath. “Wouldn’t want that.”

“And just relax, okay? I don’t know why you’re so uptight all of the sudden. This is the moodiest I’ve ever seen you. What’s up with you today?”

Castiel kept running his tongue over the place where his hoop usually was. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and did not glance at Sam. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be moody. I guess I really am just tired.” His face softened as a smile spread. “You’re exhausting, Sam Winchester. Where the hell do you get your energy?”

“Not old like you,” he teased. “You’re closer in age to Dean than me, you know that?”

“I figured. Just glad you’re legal.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll be twenty in a few months, dude. I’m not a kid.” He stretched his neck to the side. “And I might exhaust you, but you give me energy. I think I have the better part of the deal.”

“You’re a big dumb puppy.”

“And you’re a grouchy old cat who’s fun to chase. So get over it.”

The smile faltered as Castiel pulled into the parking lot of the cafe. He found a space, and retrieved his keys from the ignition. And then did not move.

Sam was out of the car before he realized Castiel had not even opened his door. “Cas?”

“I’m coming.”

He waited a moment, then ducked his head back into the car. “But you’re not.”

Castiel was chewing his lip. “I am. Just...is there anything I should do? Or not do?”

Sam stared at him, wrinkling his nose. “You should not stay in the car.”

The blue eyes closed, and after a breath, Castiel finally joined him outside the vehicle. He gave Sam a shaky smile, and then shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

It hit Sam like a truck then. “Damn. Cas, are you hiding your tats?”

There was a flicker of blue, then the eyes lowered again. “Of course not. That’s stupid. I’m cold.”

“You are! You took out your rings and covered your ears and now you’re hiding your ink!”

A scowl competed with a fierce blush on his lover’s beautiful face. “Shut up, Sam. I’m not hiding anything. You know I never hide anything. Not from anyone. I am who I am.”

“Dude, Dean isn’t-”

“Let’s just go, okay?” The sharp tone softened deliberately as he added, “Please. Sam, I want to meet your brother. He means a lot to you, and it’s important that I get to know him. That he...gets to know me. Okay? Come on.”

Sam’s stomach was filling with guilt. “I didn’t even realize you were nervous.”

Castiel flinched, but smiled through it. “That’s stupid,” he said again. “Let’s go. You promised me eggs.”

It was then that the black Impala rolled into the parking lot behind them, and AC/DC blared from the windows. Sam watched as Castiel recognized the car and seemed to shrink. The man never had great posture, but his shoulders had rounded so far that the taller man would have had to bend at the waist to kiss him at this point. His frown deepened when he saw his older brother step out of the car. Dean was clean-shaven and in a suit jacket. What was _wrong_ with these men?

“Sammy!” Dean called when he had spotted them. “Hey.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey, man!” He received the smack on his back he knew was coming. “Where’s Pamela?”

“Studying.” The older man looked expectantly at Castiel, who seemed to be trying to disappear behind his enormous boyfriend. “So?”

Sam sighed. “Dean, this is Cas. Cas, my brother Dean.”

Dean’s hand shot out with too much enthusiasm. “Good to finally meet you, buddy.”

Castiel glanced at the hand for a moment, then took a breath as if gathering courage. His own hand emerged from his pocket and grasped Dean’s quickly, then disappeared again. “You too.”

For a moment, Sam was afraid Castiel was going to call his brother _sir_. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let’s get inside and get some food.”

Dean smiled at him. “Yeah, my treat. Get whatever.” He put his arm around Sam’s shoulders, and began walking toward the cafe entrance.

Sam could hear Castiel sighing and shuffling behind them. “Cas, get us a table, will you? I need a second.” He received a nod, and watched his lover hurry into the cafe without a word, looking for all the world as though he were guilty of something. He squared off with his brother once they were alone. “Jesus, Dean. Did you think we were heading to an opera? What’s with the jacket? It’s eighty degrees out here.”

Dean frowned at him. “What? I can’t try to look nice for my little brother? It ain’t a tux. I just didn’t want your boyfriend thinking I’m just a grease monkey.”

“You are a grease monkey.”

“Maybe, but-”

“Dean, just relax, okay? You’re going to make him nervous. You’re going to make me nervous! This was just supposed to be lunch!”

Dean was chewing on his lip quietly. “I don’t mean to...Look, I just thought...The way you talk about this guy, especially after I get a little alcohol in you, it sounds like he’s kind of important to you. Like he might be around a while. Can you blame me for wanting to hit it off with the guy who’s hitting my brother?”

Sam’s eyes closed, and he produced his best bitchface without meaning to. “Don’t be crude.”

“I’m just saying I’m not trying to intimidate him. It’s the opposite. I’m kind of...” Dean’s eyes rolled, and his hands went up. “He ain’t the one who’s nervous, okay? If you like this guy as much as you seem to, I don’t want to screw something up. Push you away or whatever. God, Sam. Can you just give me a chance to talk with the guy before you assume I’m being a dick?”

Finally, Sam allowed himself to laugh. “Dean, you’re an idiot. You’re not going to push me away. We’re freaking brothers, man. You and Cas can hate each other for all I care.”

The older man swallowed hard. “Yeah. That’s not true.” He shook himself then. “Whatever.” He threw his arm back around his shoulders, and moved toward the cafe again. “He’s got a good handshake. He ain’t afraid of me. And he’s got to be better than your last one.”

“Bite me. How’re you and Pamela, anyway?”

The soft smile on Dean’s face was hard to decipher. “She’s good. We’re good. But today’s about you, little brother. Let’s do this.”

***

Castiel could not have been more uncomfortable if he were in a five-star restaurant in Manhattan. It was an almost entirely unfamiliar feeling. He had been around the world, among all types of people, and he had never felt as if he might fall short. But as he watched the brothers laugh together as they walked into the cafe, so close they were practically holding one another up, he wanted to dive out the window. He settled for hiding his hands under the table.

Dean was already larger than life in Castiel’s mind because of the way Sam talked about him. And even if he was shorter than his brother, now he knew Dean was larger than life in person too. He radiated charisma. He could see nearly everyone in the cafe look up to smile as the brothers entered. Castiel was used to people staring. His ink had always attracted attention, and walking around with a stunning man like Sam made them the target of gawking in general. It had never bothered him. But the way all eyes seemed to be on Dean Winchester as he grinned his way through the tables made Castiel’s heart sink into his stomach.

Sam slid into the booth next to Castiel, and gripped his lover’s knee gently.

Castiel wanted to kick him.

Dean dropped into the bench across from them. He glanced at Sam for a moment, then took his jacket off to lay next to him. “You been here before?”

He stopped chewing on his lip to respond. “Yeah. I always get breakfast, no matter what time of day.”

The other man smirked. “See, Sammy? It isn’t weird.”

“I never said eating breakfast for lunch was weird. I said not eating anything other than breakfast and burgers every day of the year was weird.”

Dean shrugged, and turned back to Castiel. He was about to speak when the waitress approached them. He gave her a flash of teeth in a generous smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Sam glanced at his boyfriend with almost a sympathetic expression. “So? You getting what you always get?” Castiel nodded silently. “We’re ready then. Let’s just order.”

The waitress recovered from Dean’s attention and looked at them. “Oh! Okay. Go ahead then!”

Castiel was unsure how to proceed, so he stayed quiet until Sam rolled his eyes. “He wants an omelette with cheddar and mushrooms, fruit and rye toast, with an unsweetened tea. I’ll have a Cobb salad and coke.” He gestured toward Dean.

“Four strips of bacon, fried ham and the roasted potatoes. And a coke. Thanks, sweetheart.”

“An entire pig,” Sam commented as the waitress wandered off. “You’re going to die before you’re thirty; you know that.”

Dean smiled and leaned back in the booth. “I added potatoes.”

“They’re not a vegetable; they’re a starch.”

“What’s the difference? Besides, I’ll put ketchup on them. It’s practically a salad.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Because ketchup is a vegetable?”

“Hell yes,” Dean responded in earnest.

He snickered quietly, and watched Sam roll his eyes again. “What?”

“Don’t laugh. You’ll encourage him.”

Dean broke into a story about Sam insisting on organic fruit and vegetables as a teenager, which led Sam to tell a story about Dean getting food poisoning from a truck stop hot dog when they travelled with their father.

"I've never seen anyone so sick in my life. Dad was so pissed off."

Dean scowled. "Yeah. Well, he bought me the damn thing, then he wouldn't pull over, so it served him right when I puked all over the truck. Pulled over pretty damn quick then. Sam was the brattiest kid too. He laughed at my pain."

"Bull! I convinced Dad we had to check into a motel instead of sleep in the truck that night!"

The older Winchester nodded. "Yeah. When you were done laughing." He grinned fondly at his little brother. "You were a good kid most of the time."

Castiel smiled to himself. He could practically hear Sam's heart filling with the compliment.

Their food arrived, and Sam and Dean each treated the waitress to handsome smiles. But Castiel stared at his plate in distress. Well, he couldn't hide forever, could he? He cringed at his own thoughts. When had he _ever_ wanted to hide himself like this before? He took a deep breath and reached for his fork with a trembling, inked hand.

Dean wrapped his large hand around his glass, then stopped. His head tilted fractionally. "Are those tattoos?"

Castiel felt his chest tighten. An unfamiliar defensive instinct bubbled up. "Yeah," he said firmly, as if challenging this man to disapprove.

But when he met the green gaze, he found Dean smiling appreciatively. "They're great! Guy at the Roadhouse has this awesome scene, like a river flowing down his arm. Makes me want one every time I see it."

Castiel stared at him. A slow realization dawned on him, and he caught himself trying to remember why he had worried about his ink showing at all. "Yeah, I...I have a few..."

Sam was beaming at them. He rested his hand on Castiel's long fingers. "Take off the hoodie. Show him your arms." With those words, he felt Sam's other hand reach up to brush Castiel's hair from his ears in a loving, deliberate gesture, exposing his piercings.

His breath caught in his throat. "I don't...I don't know if..."

Dean was still smiling, and not in the way some people did when they were pretending like they didn't think he was a bit of a freak. It was a smile of curiosity. "Come on. Let me live vicariously," he laughed, in that easy way that made Castiel wonder what gave him the right to be so relaxed when he himself was eating his heart out.

He swallowed hard, and sighed in defeat. In a graceful motion, he lifted his hoodie over his head and dropped it onto his lap miserably.

"Holy crap," Dean breathed.

"His whole back is this incredible set of wings. It's really beautiful."

Dean gave a low whistle.

Castiel wanted to crawl under the table now.

"He designs them himself," Sam prompted gently.

"You're an artist, man!"

The blue eyes raised to meet the green, searching for a sign that the compliment was insincere, that this man disapproved of him, that he knew he was not good enough for Sam. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized suddenly how clear it was in his own head. He had always been comfortable in his own skin, always been sure of who he was, proud and content. But at this moment, while staring into the eyes of his lover's hero, the man who encompassed all of Sam's childhood and family, he knew without a doubt that he would never be good enough. Not for Sam. It was what made his heart ache about meeting Dean, the fear that this man would see it too, even if Sam himself did not. Castiel knew, and perhaps Dean did too. It had nothing to do with his piercings or tattoos. He knew that now. It was him. It was _not enough_.

He was _not enough_.

Sam had once admitted to him that he had always felt like _too much_. He was too tall, too big, too emotional, too angry, too excitable, too much.

Now, pounding in his own chest, the words were _not enough_. Not enough! Not smart enough, not good enough...not enough for Sam.

And if there was anyone he wanted to hide it from, it was Dean Winchester.

But the green eyes revealed nothing. Dean simply took a bite of his bacon, and smiled warmly.

Castiel suddenly thought he might be sick. "Sam, excuse me please."

Sam looked up in surprise, then nodded. "Sure, Cas. You okay?"

A weak smile would have to be good enough. _Not enough!_ "Of course. Just realized I want to wash my hands before I eat."

Sam moved to let him slide out of their bench, and he could feel the man watching him as he escaped into the restroom.

He leaned onto the sink and let the water run as he stared into the mirror.

Impulsively, he grabbed for his phone to place a call. When the voice answered, he cleared his throat. "I'm having a panic attack," he growled desperately.

"Are you on something?" Gabriel asked quickly.

Castiel ran a shaking hand through his hair. "No. Not unless stupid counts."

"If stupid counted, you'd be high all the time. Where are you? What's going on?"

"I'm at a cafe, meeting Sam's brother."

"Wow. Okay. That's kind of a big step."

"I've been sleeping with him for two months, and the guy lives in the same town. It was bound to happen eventually."

Gabriel snorted. "Meg had a twin sister who lived in the same dorm room, and you managed to never meet her."

"Yeah. Well, Sam isn't Meg and Dean isn't Ruby. Come on, Gabe. I'm drowning."

"Okay, why? Is he an asshole?"

Castiel put his free hand in the water and splashed it on his face. "No. He's actually a good guy. I think it would all be easier if he were an asshole."

"Are you in a bathroom? You're echoing."

"Yes, I'm hiding in a bathroom. Because I'm pathetic and stupid. Now would you please be my best friend for a minute and tell me what to do?"

"Dude," his flatmate sighed, "you got to relax. You got a joint or a fag on you?"

"Of course not."

"Too bad. Okay, look. This guy is pretty much Sam's whole family, right?"

"Yeah." He stared at his reflection as he chewed on his lip.

"So? Talk about Sam. It's all you have in common right now. Till you get to know the guy better, just let him know you think his brother is awesome. This guy practically raised him, you said. So talk about how amazing Sam is. That's all you have to do."

It was perfectly simple. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I can do that. Why am I freaking out?"

Gabriel's voice softened. "Because you don't know what families are supposed to be like. The longest you ever spent in an actual home was two or three months. And you know this guy is Sam's whole world, and you want him to make room for you. You were never in a family before, and now you're asking to be allowed in Sam's. It's scary."

He felt tears stinging the backs of his eyes. "Jesus, Gabe. I swear, when you're not being a complete prick, you're actually not a bad friend."

"Don't tell anybody. I'd hate to have to do it for more than just you."

He smiled and blinked hard against the tears. "You're right. It would maybe be different if Sam had any real contact with his dad, or if he had other family nearby. It's like I got one chance to prove myself. Dean's it. There's nobody else. If I'm going to be good enough, it's got to be with him. And I'm terrified I'm not good enough."

Gabriel sighed, and Castiel thought he sounded weary. "Cas, just be you. Okay? Sam loves you. That's obvious. Don't worry about anything else. Family doesn't end with blood, bro. You and me? You may not have had much experience with families, but you're the closest thing I got to a brother."

"Gabe, you have a brother. Raf, remember?"

"He's a dick when we're both sober. I like you better."

Castiel erupted in laughter, feeling his anxiety melting away. "Yeah, okay. You're right. Thanks, man."

"Want me to bring you some weed?"

"No."

"Your loss. Good luck, bro."

He forced himself to smile as he approached the table again. "Sorry," he mumbled, and slipped back into his seat.

Sam was watching him, while Dean cut into his ham. "You okay?" he whispered.

He didn't respond, but instead turned to Dean. "Sam tell you about his art history project? He's working on tracking down the providences for a piece in the school gallery."

"Provenances," Sam corrected.

Dean's eyebrows pulled tight as he watched his brother's mouth. "Providences," he repeated.

"Provenances."

"What's that?"

Sam began a lecture about authenticity and records, and Dean looked like he was only catching half of his words, but he listened intently all the same.

"See, I could never study something like that," the older brother said with awe. "I better stay behind bars and under hoods where I belong," he laughed quietly.

"You could too," Sam argued, but Dean shook his head.

Castiel stabbed at his egg, but spoke up quickly. "Sam's awfully smart. He'll be at the top of his class."

Dean looked ready to burst with pride. "Yeah, you know, he was always reading in the backseat, always. It's why I wanted to get him settled in one city for high school. I guess he told you we used to road trip constantly. All forty-eight and bits of Canada. But I wanted him to be able to really focus in high school. Not that I did. I dropped out. But Sammy, he's smarter."

Castiel smiled at the obvious devotion in the man's words. "He works hard too. Studies all the time."

"It's 'cause he knows he can be something," Dean said quietly. "A lawyer, maybe. Or a professor. Kid's real smart. And he's going to be something important."

Castiel could almost feel Sam's blush. "Yeah, no pressure," the young man laughed awkwardly.

His brother leaned back. "No, I don't mean...Look, you ain't a grease monkey or a bartender. It don't matter what you decide to be. You're going to be important."

Castiel smiled, and the words fell out of his mouth before he could think them. "I like you, Dean."

The big man began to laugh. "Why?"

"You get him," he said quietly. "You see what I see."

Sam sighed. "Whatever, guys. I'll be back, okay? Dean, don't be an ass."

"No promises," he called after his brother, who glared back on his way to the restroom.

Castiel felt his absence keenly, but Dean gave him a curious, friendly smile. "Sam is something different," he said softly. "He's smarter and more talented than anybody I ever knew. And he cares more."

He snickered down at his eggs. "This the part where you threaten me?"

Dean watched him for a moment, then continued. "This is the part where I help you."

The blue eyes locked onto green.

"Sam's different," he said again. "And you gotta be ready for his flip side."

"What's that mean?"

"You had your first real fight yet?"

Castiel shook his head, his anxiety filling his stomach again.

"Yeah. Be ready. He'll try to run. And you can't let him. He's a sensitive kid, feels stuff a thousand times stronger than anybody else. Which is great. It's fantastic. But if you can't handle it, if you aren't ready for it, he'll run and you'll lose him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged. "He's falling for you, man. Harder than I've ever seen him fall. And he jumps in with his whole body and soul, like he can't help it, and when he gets hurt, he runs, because it's too much. And I've never seen him happier than he's been with you. So don't let him run just because he's overwhelmed, because he's afraid of what he's feeling."

Castiel considered his words for a moment. "I love your brother, Dean. I'm not afraid of hard work."

A grin brightened the man's whole face. "Good. The kid's a pain in the ass, but he's worth it. I'd go to hell and back for that kid. He deserves to be happy."

Castiel nodded. "Tell you what. You go to hell for him, I'll go down and drag you back up. He's obviously pretty attached to you."

The laugh burst over him like a wave, cooling his discomfort and nerves. "Deal," Dean responded.

By the time Sam arrived back at the table, Castiel was describing each of his tattoos and the stories behind them, and Dean was asking questions and listening intently. Sam sat quietly, and Castiel felt him put his hand on his arm. He turned to give him a smile, and found him staring into his face with love.

"It's fun having both of you here."

Dean shrugged and pushed his plate back. "Cas agreed to come down to the Roadhouse tomorrow night while I'm working and meet some folks. You in?"

Sam beamed. "Yeah, okay!"

"You need a new ID yet?"

"Nah. I'll stick to soda so I can drive. Thanks, though."

Dean nodded. "Cas, your drinks are on me as long as you don't give them back at the end of the night."

He chuckled. "It's been a really long time since I didn't know my limits."

The man eyed him. "Yeah? You're older, aren't you?"

He licked his lips, wondering if this was a problem. "Twenty-two."

"Good. Sam's last hookup almost got me fired."

As Sam and Dean began to banter about questionable judgement in love and life, Castiel sat back to finish his meal in peace.

He was exhausted. This whole experience had drained him to the bone. He knew he had done it to himself, by fretting unnecessarily. He guessed that Dean could be a very intimidating man if he chose to be, but he had been nothing but friendly and kind. He was grateful for that.

He had learned something about his own insecurities today, and it had humbled him painfully. But he also had a deeper understanding of how much Sam meant to him, and how badly he wanted to keep him happy.

When they met, Sam had been a bit of a mess. He was starving for intimacy and for love. He had become obsessed with Castiel's touch, had ached for it each time they were apart. At times, it had overwhelmed Castiel how intensely the man needed him, how wide open he was with his emotions. But he loved him for it. Sam was completely incapable of loving on a small scale. It was like nothing Castiel had ever experienced before, and he had become addicted to the flood of warmth and frenzy of want.

And now the man's brother was giving his blessing, had even given him tips on how to keep Sam in spite of his runaway heart. It had never been a priority to become part of a family. He had given up that goal before turning ten years old. Until Sam. Sam was the first thing that had ever seemed worth the effort, and he planned to give whatever it took.

***

Sam was soaked through, his hair dripping and his trunks clinging to his body in a way that was making the group of girls off to their left lower their sunglasses appreciatively. But his goofy smile was all for Castiel.

He never minded others watching his lover. Let them look all they wanted. Sam never noticed anyway. Castiel loved art in all its forms, and Sam Winchester was one of nature's finest masterpieces. It would be selfish and futile to try to keep him all to himself.

Exactly like a great golden retriever, Sam shook his head and let the salt water spray out in all directions. Castiel yelped as it reached him.

"Hey! Freaking mutt!"

Sam landed with a thud and an eruption of sand next to him. "You said you'd go swimming."

"I said I'd take you to the beach."

"You're so bitchy."

Castiel watched fondly as the large man lay back on the sand, his arms folded behind his head. "Sam, you're going to give those girls heart attacks."

He received a confused frown. "What?"

The older man dog-eared his book's page and closed it, opting to push brown hair out of light hazel eyes instead. He could hear the women around them sigh at the gesture, and he just smiled. "Sorry, ladies," he murmured.

Sam was staring into his eyes then, as if there were no one else on the beach. "Your wings burning, Angel?"

He gave him a smile. "No. I'm fine. Might pull my shirt on though. And I can't let my hip get sun."

"Oh. I forgot. That why you don't want to swim?"

"No," he teased with a kiss to Sam's nose. "I'm just a boring guy. I actually enjoy reading on the beach."

Sam looked at him as if that were Castiel's most attractive quality. "I could never do that. It's too bright. I'd give myself a migraine."

"I know. You're delicate."

Sam slugged him in the shoulder. "Delicate, my ass!”

Castiel laughed quietly. “Your brother’s right. You’re an easy mark.”

The hazel eyes rolled dramatically. “He would know. He tortured me our whole lives.” He rolled once and put his head on Castiel’s arm. “Shade’s going to move soon. We’ll need to shove over if you insist on getting zero vitamin D.”

“You wouldn’t believe how dark I was in Australia. I was like a photo negative of myself.”

His boyfriend giggled at the mental image. “Dean skips right over the tan phase into burnt. He walks out into the sun and that’s it. Freckles everywhere. And refuses to bother with sunscreen. I used to tease him that he was really a vampire.” He was quiet in his own memories for a moment, then he looked back at Castiel. “What was it like growing up without a brother?”

The question was gentle, as if Sam were afraid of upsetting him, but he smiled. “I always lived with people. It was never like I was totally alone. Spent years in one boys home after another. And the few times I was actually in a foster home, there were always other kids there too. Like temporary brothers, I guess. But I never got close to any of them. You couldn’t, you know? Any day, they could be gone, or I could be moved somewhere else. Met a lot of really good people, but nobody I kept up with after. Even the guys I went to Ukraine with, we just did our own separate things, and I ended up heading out on my own after a few weeks. So I guess it was…lonely in a loud world. Best way I can describe it. Always static but never any connection, you know?”

Sam’s eyes on him were intense. He watched him expectantly, silently.

Castiel laughed uncomfortably. “Did I not answer the question?”

“Yeah. But I want to know more.”

He sighed heavily, and shoved Sam off of him in favor of sitting up. “You always want to know more. You ask more questions than anybody I know.”

But Sam did not allow the brush-off. “When we first met, you listened to every one of my stories. You wanted to know everything about me. You held me and listened for hours and hours. You made me feel like whatever I was feeling was okay. Nobody but Dean had ever done anything like that before, and he does it because he loves me, not because he understands. You’re the first person I ever felt understood, or at least cared to try. The first person I could feel safe with. Why would you think I wouldn’t want you to feel the same way?”

The sincerity of Sam’s words and the concern in his voice took Castiel’s breath away. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of emotion blocking his airway. He let Sam take his hand and run his thumb over it tenderly. He gave him a weak smile. “I like to listen,” he croaked, even knowing this was an insufficient response.

“So do I,” Sam insisted quietly. “Cas, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel like telling me. But I want to know. And I think you want to tell me sometimes, but you don’t. You and I can’t work if I’m the only one willing to trust.”

Blue eyes sparked with hurt, but he could not deny Sam’s accusation. He sighed again. “You were just an experiment,” he reminded him breathlessly. “You weren’t supposed to become more than that. I was just supposed to help you. And now I’m waking up with you, drinking coffee you made, and meeting your brother, and for the first time in my life, I want to hide. Don’t be angry with me, Sam. I’ve just...never been afraid before.”

“Cas, I’m not going to hurt you.”

A laugh burst from his lips, tasting bitter. “You think I’m afraid of getting hurt?” He shook his head in disbelief, felt a trembling coming from deep inside him. “Have you seen my arms? You think pain is what I’m afraid of? Sam, don’t you get it? I’m scared to death you’re _not_ going to hurt me! I’ve already gotten in deeper with you than I’ve ever been with anyone in my whole life. I don’t know what comes next.” He felt his breath catch badly in his throat, but he closed his eyes tightly and pushed forward. “Sam, I’m willing to be anything for you, to change anything, and that scares the shit out of me. I’ve always known who I am, always been comfortable with that. And now I’ve got this horrible feeling in my gut telling me it isn’t enough. That I’m not enough. I don’t like it. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

Sam was sitting up and cupping his face in his hands before he realized he had moved. The huge hands were warm, and Castiel could not help leaning into them. “Angel, you are everything. From the first time you held me, I knew it. Do you remember? I fell asleep in your arms! Jesus, Castiel, I don’t trust anyone like that. I fell asleep. I even cried. Do you think there’s more than one other person in the world who’s seen that? Even Jess, no matter what he made me feel, I never showed him that. But I knew you for ten minutes, and I already felt safe enough to cry in front of you. You do that to people, you make them feel safe in an instant. I’ve never met anyone like that before. Never worry that you’re not enough. You’re everything, Cas. Please never hide anything about you.”

Castiel took a long, shuddering breath. He did not want to open his eyes, but he could not stop the tears from slipping out and down his face. “I don’t know what comes next,” he whispered again. “If it’s just you, I can do it. If it’s just me helping you. But every minute we’re together, every minute it isn’t just about you, I feel like I’m falling deeper into something I won’t be able to get out of.”

When at last he opened his eyes, he found Sam smiling at him. “Do you want to get out, Angel?”

He shook his head silently.

“Then stop fighting it.”

Those beautiful lips were on his now, and he felt dizzy, with relief, with fear, with love. This man who was supposed to be Castiel’s project, just someone new to help, was turning his whole world inside out and upside down. Loving him was stretching Castiel beyond limitations he had set for himself his entire life.

But the words came to him again, and for some reason, he heard them in Gabriel’s voice. _He’s worth it. Just let it be._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


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